Marley (Carnage #3)

by Lesley Jones

  “I said, ‘And you’re a fucking pervert.’” I smiled, as I could imagine her blushing, and I really wanted to see that. Her skin looked so pale this morning that it’d be good to see some colour on her cheeks, like, really good ... and now I’m getting hard again. Fuck you, dick gods.

  “Well, I think the fact that I showered you and changed you into clean clothes, twice, I might fucking add, without once touching you inappropriately, just goes to prove that I’m not a pervert.”

  She finally looks up at me, her blue-brown eyes still glassy.

  “I’m sorry. Thank you for looking after me. I wasn’t talking about any of that. In fact, I’m trying really hard to forget that Marley Layton has seen my tits right now.”

  “Then why am I a pervert? I don’t understand?”

  “Because you’re you and I’m just me; a puke smelling, crazy haired lady, pasty faced no body who obviously has no self-respect for herself because I came home with you last night, after only just meeting you.”

  Tears clung to her bottom lashes and my heart missed a beat, then seemed to rush around in my chest, trying to find its missing action.

  “Well, you know what, sweetheart? If getting a fat on over the most beautiful, puke smelling, crazy haired, pasty faced nobody I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing makes me a pervert, then I’m guilty as fucking charged.”

  A small smile pulled at the corner of her perfect mouth and I finally got to see that blush spread up her neck and over her cheeks. She swung her shoulders from side to side in the most girliest of gestures. I closed my eyes and thought of chords, notes, frets. I tried to write a tune in my head, anything to calm this boner down.

  “I really wanna kiss the fuck outta you right now.” The blood supply that usually inhabited my brain had obviously sunk south to my dick because I never, at any stage, intended to say that out loud.

  “I stink of puke,” she whispers.

  “I don’t give a fuck.” I tell her.

  She looked over my face for a few seconds and I thought that she was gonna take a step forward, then something, I’ve no clue what, must’ve crossed her mind and her whole stance, even the look in her eyes changed.

  “I’ll pass on the kiss, thanks. I’ll just clean my teeth and meet you in the kitchen.” She gave me a small smile, but I still felt the sting of her rejection. I nodded my head and left the bathroom, pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt and headed to my kitchen.

  Fuck this for a game of soldiers. That―that right there, women and their unpredictability, were the reasons I didn’t do relationships. They’re a complete mystery to me and that’s exactly the way I wanted it to stay.

  Fuck her and her blue-brown, brown-blue, or whatever the fuck eye colour she has.

  Fuck her pink cheeks.

  Fuck her perfect tits that I never looked at ... much. Maybe a little bit, or a few times, but whatever. Fuck them anyway.

  Fuck everything about her and the way she made me feel so off balance.

  I’d make her coffee and some toast, then call Dave to come pick her up, seeing as Maca seemed to have decided that Milo was for he and my sister’s own personal use. So, fuck them too. They could all go fuck themselves.

  “Why’ve you been so nice to me?”

  I jumped at the sound of Ashley’s voice as she leaned against the doorway, watching me pour hot water from the kettle into the coffee mugs I’d set out.

  Yeah, me. I’m making a girl coffee after a night of not even getting a shag, or a blowie, or even a hand job. You couldn’t make this shit up. Un-fucking-believable!

  “What?” My response came out a little harsher than I intended, and I hated that she flinched at my tone. She was still wearing my T-shirt and boxers, and had her hair up in what looked like a birds nest on top of her head. It was the sexiest fucking bird’s nest I’d ever seen.

  I slid my hands into the pockets of my joggers and held onto my hardening dick so that she couldn’t see it. “Ewww, are you playing with your dick through your pocket?”

  This girl seriously had no filter.

  I blush. I actually felt my cheeks burn as she stood there with a sexy as fuck smirk on her face. I’m Marley Layton. I don’t fucking blush.

  Ever.

  “What? No. I was, I just ... my dick fucking likes you, all right. It has a mind of its own when you’re around.” I admitted while standing there, glowing like the Ready Brek kid.

  “And playing with it helps?” She asked.

  “I’m not playing with my fucking dick. I was trying to hold it down so that you wouldn’t see that I’ve got a big fat boner going on.”

  I watched as she folded her arms across her chest.

  Her perfect, perfect tits moved under my T-shirt and my disobedient dick twitched in my hand. I close my eyes for a few seconds and try not to think about how they looked when I showered her earlier this morning.

  I fail. They’re all I can picture.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said quietly.

  I opened my eyes and watched as she moved toward and then past me. She goes to the fridge and pulls out the milk.

  “What question?” I asked as she put the milk down on the work top and started opening cupboard doors. “What are you looking for?”

  “The sugar,” She replied in a tone that implied I should know that.

  “Here.” I open the cupboard above the kettle and get it down for her.

  “Tupperware? Oh, Rock Star, that bit of info would do your bad boy reputation no good if it were to get out. Did you go to a party yourself to buy it?” She asked while putting two heaped spoonful’s of the golden granules into her cup, offering one up to me.

  “One, please, and no, I didn’t go to a Tupper-fucking-ware parties. My mum came around and organised everything in here and brought us cutlery, plates, cups and shit. Anything else you wanna have a dig at me about?”

  She stared down at our coffees as she stirred each one in turn.

  “You gonna answer my question, or just keep avoiding it?” she asked without looking back up at me.

  “What was the question?” I know full well what the question was, but I don’t have an answer that I’m willing to admit to just yet―not to her or myself.

  “Why’ve you been so nice to me―looked after me?” She turned and met my gaze head on.

  “Because I like you, a lot.” I didn’t hesitate to answer, yet I can’t believe I just said that. I was adamant that I was gonna say nothing, and then I just blurted it out.

  This girl.

  This fucking girl was tying me up in knots.

  Me. This doesn’t happen to me.

  “You don’t even know me.” She said bluntly with a defiant edge to her tone.

  “We just spent a night together. I cleaned up your puke. I think I know you well enough.”

  “And despite that, you still reckon you like me?”

  “No, Ashley.” I didn’t miss the fact that she flinched again, just slightly before I got a chance to continue. A little zing of pain hits my heart, like an electric shock, at the thought that I might’ve hurt her feelings.

  “I don’t reckon I like you. I know that I do. Despite the puke in my car, in my bathroom, and on my clothes. Despite you taking the piss out of my endless hard-on and my Tupper-fucking-ware, I like you. Fuck knows why, but I do and so does my dick.”

  Her response? She dragged her teeth backwards and forwards over her bottom lip and I almost came in my pants like a thirteen-year-old boy, right there in my kitchen.

  “I’m still not shagging you.” Was her only reply before taking a sip of her coffee, then smiling at me sweetly.

  “Yeah, I heard you the first time, and all the other times you’ve told me.” I sigh out, trying to sound defeated, hoping to garner some sympathy from her.

  “What is it exactly you’ve got against me?” I questioned. I’m actually curious now. I’ve turned women down, occasionally. Well, no, that’s a lie. I nearly always said yes, unles
s they were grabby. I don’t like grabby, aggressive women. I’ve always worried they might go a bit psycho on me, but anyway, this? Having a girl blatantly knock me back? This was new ground for me, and I was a little unsure how I approached the situation.

  On the one hand I liked her, and I would like very much to sink my dick balls deep inside her. Just her mouth, would in fact do at this point. But, on the other hand, I loved that she wasn’t intimidated by who I was and didn’t appear to be interested in shagging me just for the bragging rights. She didn’t seem like she was expecting something permanent from me, convincing herself that she might be ‘the one’ to tame me and make me settle down. She seemed too independent for that shit.

  “I don’t have anything against you. I just have a little bit more respect for myself than to shag someone on the night that I meet them, especially when they happen to be my boss’ son.”

  I heard her belly rumble as she finished talking and moved to get some eggs out of the fridge. I was actually about to make this girl some breakfast I shook my head at the prospect and felt like I should call Maca or my brothers to have them explain my actions because I had no clue what was going on with me.

  “So, if you didn’t work for my mum and sister, I might have been in with a chance?” I asked.

  “I don’t shag on the first night. Unfortunately for you, the fact that I work for your mum and sister means that I won’t shag you on any night.”

  “What if I took you out tonight? Or next week? Do you shag on the second or third night?” I said jokingly.

  Totally not joking.

  Once again, something passed across her face and eyes.

  “Marley.” She said my name as though she was letting out a long breath or a sigh, and I felt all girly as my insides jumped about and my balls felt all tingly, in a most ungirly way.

  “Ashley,” I said in the same manner and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

  “You should do that more often.” I told her while reaching into the drawer for a frying pan.

  “Say your name?”

  “Saying my name is good, but you smiling is even better.”

  Fuck, I was even making myself cringe. Could I have sounded any more wankerish?

  She smiled again and my charm sank to new depths. “See? That was beautiful.”

  “You’re so full of shit.”

  I shook my head in frustration. I’m not winning with my words, so let’s see what I could do with my culinary skills. “You want some breakfast?”

  “You don’t want me to leave?” She asked with raised eyebrows, obviously surprised that I wanted her to stay. I’m bloody surprised I wanted her stay, but I did. She was hungry and that made me want to feed her. I didn’t like the idea of her being hungry, hated it, in fact. Just like last night, I needed to look after her. I had no idea what any of it meant, I just knew that I was about to cook this girl breakfast for two reasons. One, so she’d no longer be hungry and two, so that she’d stay here a bit longer.

  “If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn’t be offering to cook you breakfast. I’m not a bullshitter, Ashley. I tend to say what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I tend to get into trouble for that,” she said quietly while staring at her toes―her cute toes with purple nail varnish on them.

  My eyes travelled from her toes and up her legs, from her legs to her body that happened to be hidden away under my T-shirt. Eventually, my eyes hit her face and I was surprised to see her watching me. I abandoned the frying pan and stepped right into her space. She smelled of my shampoo and body wash. Thoughts of her naked as I washed her invaded every single space in my head and I took her face into my hands.

  “You,” I let out a long breathe. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”

  Her eyes instantly filled with tears.

  What the fuck?

  She shakes her head slightly. “Don’t, Marley. Please don’t.” She whispered, attempting to look down but I gripped her face tighter, refusing to let her break eye contact with me.

  “Don’t what? What did I do?” I asked her, feeling totally confused.

  “Don’t say shit like that to me. Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. I know I don’t talk nice like your mum and your sister. I know that I sound common and I know what people say about my family.” She swallowed and her jaw trembled. The sight of her struggling actually caused a physical pain in my chest.

  “Ash, sweetheart, I seriously―”

  “No, no. Let me finish, Marley. People can think what they’d like about my family, most of it’s true anyway. They’re not good people, and I’m fully aware of that. I also know that people tar me with the same brush, but I’ll never be like them. No matter what happens to me, I’ll never stoop to their level. People can think what they’d like, but here,” She pointed at her head and then her heart. “And in here, I know the truth. Yeah, I like to go out and have a good time. I like a drink and I’ll do the occasional line or smoke a joint, but I’m not a junkie and I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep around.”

  She blinked and a lone tear rolled down her pretty little cheek. I knew nothing about her family situation, but I hated that she felt like that, that they’d made her feel like that.

  “I’m also not as thick as I sound, and you can tell me that I’m gorgeous till the cows come home, but that won’t get you inside my knickers. I’m not one of your supermodels who can pull a rock star any time she likes. I’m just a shop girl; I’m not in your league.”

  I didn’t know what to do or say. I felt panic welling in my chest. I wanted to kiss her so bad―so fucking bad, but I didn’t want her to think that I thought she was easy, and that I was just trying my luck.

  My mouth forgets to engage my brain before it starts speaking, and words just start coming out of it.

  “Ash, I honestly don’t know anything about your family. I’ve no idea what their reputation is, and I most certainly would never, not in a million years, judge you on the way you talk. You’re just a typical Essex bird to me; mouthy, funny, straight to the point, and in your case, sexy as fuck.” She rolled her eyes, again.

  “I’m not bullshitting you, babe, I’ve no need to. Believe what you’d like, but I’m telling you straight up, you are a pretty girl and I would really, really like to kiss you right now.”

  I bent my knees slightly so that I could look into her eyes, which were once again cast downwards.

  “Whatever you may think, Ash, at the end of the day, we’re just you and me. An Essex boy, who really wants to kiss an Essex girl. Just because I do what I do for a living, it doesn’t make me any better than you and I hate, fucking hate you putting yourself down. You working in a shop is what you do for a living. Well, me playing in a band is what I do. They’re just jobs. They don’t make either of us better or worse than the other, and I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again, you hear me?” I brushed the tears from her cheeks. I was gonna call Jimmie or my sister later to find out what the fuck had gone on in this girls life that caused her to have such low self-esteem, despite the ‘full of confidence’ bullshit and bravado she liked to put on.

  I gently kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to gauge her reaction. She slid her arms around my neck, so I slid one of mine around her waist, and one around her neck so that I could hold onto the back of her head. I held her still and moved in to kiss her again.

  I placed my mouth gently on hers, barely moving my lips at first. I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips and savoured the combination of coffee, toothpaste and salty tears, which made up the taste of Ashley. My tongue probed harder and eventually she allowed it access to her mouth. There was the sound of a groan and I had no idea if it came from me, her, or if it was a joint effort, but it prompted me to slide my hand down to her arse and pull her in tight against me. My dick was hard and I knew she was able to feel it against her belly. But I really didn’t give a fuck. I wanted her to know what she did to me. I needed her to know that I really did think that she
was sexy as fuck.

  She shocked the shit out of me by lifting her leg and hooking it around my hip. I didn’t hesitate in cupping her arse and lifting her so that she was forced to hook her other leg around me to hold on.

  I moved with her wrapped around me and sat her down on the kitchen work top, not breaking our kiss the whole time. As soon as her bum touched the granite, or marble, or whatever shit it was made from, I slid her forward so that I could continue pressing my dick right between her legs. I could feel her hot little cunt against the tip of my dick, and didn’t even attempt to stop the “fuck” that slipped out of my mouth against hers.

  I moved my hips so that I was rubbing myself against her. The heels of her feet were pressing into my arse cheeks, forcing me harder against her.

  “Fuck, Ash. I wanna be inside you. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” I spoke without moving my mouth from hers.

  “I know, but we can’t. I’m not like that, I don’t do this. I’m not like that, Marley.”

  I stopped kissing her and rested my forehead against hers. I didn’t want to pressure her, and I didn’t want to make her feel guilty, so I drew in a few deep breaths.

  “I understand, but we need to stop, baby. If I kiss you, then I’m gonna wanna be inside you. You’re too fucking sexy for me not to want you. I’ve got no fucking control around you, Ash.”

  I felt her chuckle as I kissed her neck.

  “You and me both, Rock Star. You and me both.”

  No idea how I managed to do it, but somehow I pried myself from between that little temptresses legs and instead of poking at her eggs with my dick, I scrambled some with a whisk for breakfast, along with toast and more coffee. By the time we were done and cleaned up, it was after three. I found her a hoodie and we laid under a blanket, curled up on the sofa, watching videos.

  I’d never done this. I’d walked the red carpet with a model, an actress and once, even a princess on my arm but I’d never laid on the sofa, with a girls back pressed into my front and watched a film. If I’d have had any clue as to how good it felt, I would’ve spent most afternoons this way.

  We took turns choosing films. Obviously, being the gentleman that I was, I let Ashley choose first and was relieved when she chose Willow and not Beaches out of the choices available. It remained, to this day, ‘our’ film, along with ‘Big,’ and ‘The Land Before Time,’ which we also watched.